


Trust Enough

by aurilly



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Book: The Last Battle (Narnia), Caves, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26451232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurilly/pseuds/aurilly
Summary: Emeth defects the Calormen army and goes to join Tirian & Co in hiding.
Relationships: Emeth/Tirian (Narnia)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17
Collections: Narnia Fic Exchange 2020





	Trust Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starbrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starbrow/gifts).



Only Poggin had retained the presence of mind to stoke the fire during Emeth's long and riveting tale. And even then, he'd only remembered to do it once. By the time Emeth had finished, everyone's spiced wine had gone cold and their hands a little numb. The crackle of the weak fire was the only sound in the cave.

"We have to act on this information," Eustace said awkwardly, breaking the rapt silence a little sooner than anyone else was quite ready for.

"What do you mean? I see little to act on. I merely told you how I came to join your ranks. Why I defected." Emeth hung his head; even though he seemed confident in his choice to leave the Calormene cause, a sense of loss and betrayal seemed to plague him. 

Only natural, Tirian thought to himself. An honorable man, as Emeth most certainly was, from the point of his helmet to the tips of his muddy boots, would need longer than a couple of days to make his peace with deserting his station, his people, his previously dedicated path.

"What are you talking about?" Eustace retorted, this time a little too loudly for the space. "You couldn't have brought us more actionable information if you'd been our top spy."

Jill placed a calming hand on his knee. "Let Tirian have a say first," she whispered in her quietest voice, loud enough only for Eustace and Tirian to hear. Everyone else likely heard only a shy murmur. 

Tirian felt all eyes on him. Back when he'd held similar councils in Cair Paravel's hallowed domed council hall—how long ago that all felt now, though it had been less than a year—it had been a struggle to focus, to listen closely. Even more of a burden to give his opinion and put forth his decisions. But his councilors were different now; instead of grand nobles with feathered capes wheezing banalities to hide their own self-interests, Tirian's new inner circle was made up of common dwarves and beasts and creatures, and complemented by two children from the world of men. Everyone in this cave had proven themselves with courage and cleverness. 

Tirian had hated being king of a castle. But king of this cave? Of a resistance against conquerors? This, he felt he could do. He even enjoyed it. He had always loved Narnia, but in these months in hiding in the southern forests, he felt that he had truly become one with his country, gotten to know what Narnia truly meant in a way that kings since Caspian likely had forgotten.

And now there was this new addition to the group—an unexpected recruit from the enemy. Tirian understood what Eustace meant about using the intelligent Emeth had brought them of the Calormene's positions and plans. However, as an honorable soldier himself, he could see that Emeth had told them everything as an introduction, a story in the Calormene way. A sort of calling card. Although intelligent, he had too noble of a heart to see that a shrewd spymaster (such as the ones in the books Eustace had read back in his world) would immediately begin planning espionage missions based on this story. Strike backs against the men Emeth still half-regretted leaving.

No, it was more important, perhaps not to the cause, but to what Narnia represented, to make Emeth feel welcome as a person, than it was to use his knowledge to strike back.

Now, if only Tirian could make that clear without losing face.

He used the excuse of the cold.

"I would have us think about our next moves carefully," he said gravely, looking at Eustace with sternness and pleading, hoping he would understand (not that Eustace ever did). "But in the meanwhile, our first order of business is to make our new compatriot comfortable. The king of Narnia has little to offer a guest or a friend, but we have fresh straw and warm blankets. And a quiet, private section of this cavern."

"I thank you, sire," Emeth said with an awed little smile. "I am honored to be welcomed, enemy though I am. I am honored to meet all of you. As I said, I have spent my whole life hearing of this land and of this people. I joined the Tisroc's project—may…" Emeth swallowed, looked pained, and then continued, clearly the first time he had not voiced the usual 'may he live forever'. "I joined in the hopes of gaining passage here and meeting you in battle. But, since no true battle had ever been planned, I am glad to meet you all like this, as you truly are, and as a friend." 

"A fine speech," Jewel grumbled with approval, and Poggin and a few of the other creatures nodded as well. 

Tirian had been afraid that some of his followers might not take to Emeth as immediately as he and Jill and Eustace had; he was relieved to see the man's honest face inspire trust almost immediately. 

(The confirmation from the fox and sparrow scouts guarding the wood that no other Calormene had come with him, nor seemed to be in this part of the country at all, had also helped.)

"Apart from the children," Tirian said next, "you are the only man in the camp, and thus, I have no adult-sized bedroll or tent to offer you, apart from half of my own. Would you accept?"

Emeth's eyes, already beautifully wide and warm, widened further. "But… you are the king. You cannot…"

"As long as you don't kick too hard in your sleep, I promise you that I certainly can," Tirian said quickly, because such sentiments as Emeth had been about to express embarrassed him. These days, Tirian was only king of a few straggler survivors who were hiding in this cavern complex or who were living in hiding in similar other spots dotted around the former kingdom.

"But…" Eustace began again, but Tirian interrupted him, too.

"And we will discuss our plans again tomorrow, after everyone has enjoyed what sleep can be snatched in what remains of this night. Come, friend," he said, getting up and offering his hand to help Emeth.

Jill shushed Eustace, but spared a moment to catch Tirian eye. She winked. She understood. She always did. Tirian had been introduced to many princesses and ladies of 'great worth' in his time, but there had been none who came close to her ever-present perspicacity and practicality. She managed everyone in their camp—from the hungry horses to the cantankerous dwarves, to the squabbling squirrels—with ease and good humor, telling Tirian one day that 'even these reduced circumstances beat the last adventure' through the lonely wastelands'.

Emeth must have caught that look, for, as he and Tirian walked briskly through the tunnels to the corner that Tirian called his own, he said, "The Lady Jill is a most wondrous companion. And, although I do not yet understand all that he says, I look forward to improving my acquaintance with Lord Eustace. Never in my wildest dreams did I think to meet people from another world!"

"Neither did I, to tell truth. Very few kings of Narnia have had the honor. Though, sometimes I ask myself if it is an honor, or if it is a sign of a king's weakness. How many kings have reigned with no help at all? Meanwhile, my line—Caspian's line has had many such visitors." 

"In Calormen, the poets would say that, far from weakness, such visits signify a king's greatness. For only the most fit—the most noble—would attract aid from such lofty sources."

"In Calormen," Tirian replied with a gentle smile, "the poets say whatever they think will make the king happy."

Tirian had assumed Emeth remained too raw to yet laugh about his homeland, so, it was to his surprise when he heard a little chuckle. 

"You may not be wrong," Emeth said. 

They arrived in Tirian's grotto. Jill had spent a couple of wet, otherwise useless days decorating it with bits of banners and weapons that looked handsome but were too rusted to press into hands or paws. It looked about as nice as a cave could. Tirian felt only half-mortified to usher his new companion into it.

"My cavern is your cavern," he said sadly.

To Tirian's surprise, Emeth suddenly sank to his knees. He grasped Tirian's hand and pressed feverish kisses to it. 

"What are you doing?" Tirian asked.

"Thanking you. For everything. For sharing such splendour with me."

"It's hardly—" 

"I have been inside the palace of the Tisroc. I have spent my youth in the pleasure palaces of Azimbalda. But never have I felt myself in the presence of power as worthy as yours." 

Tirian was so taken aback by this impassioned display that he did not quite know what to say. He let his hand linger beneath Emeth's lips, and let the torch play across his exceedingly handsome features. And in doing so, he finally showed the weakness he had essayed to keep under control ever since Emeth had been ushered into the camp.

Unlike Eustace, who saw in Emeth a font of information, or like Poggin, who saw in him an opportunity to understand the enemy, or even like Puzzle, who saw a giver of carrots, Tirian could not help but see in Emeth a beautiful man. The first man he had seen in many hard, lonely months. A man who held all the attractions Tirian had ever dreamed of in a partner.

When he'd offered to share his bed with Emeth, he'd done so out of logistical necessity. His stated reasons had been true. But they had not been all. And for this deception, his soul wallowed in guilt.

And meanwhile, Emeth remained on his knees, and continued to caress Tirian's hand.

"You do not remember me, do you?" Emeth asked.

"Remember you?" Tirian asked with a thick voice, willing himself not to respond to Emeth's proximity to certain parts of himself. "We met only today."

"But this is not the first time we have seen one another. I was there the day you, only a prince at the time, toured the Temple of Tash. I was there as a junior guard, one of the many who lined the walls of the sacred sanctum. You did not see me, your highness, but I saw you. And I… I thought you the most wonderful, fascinating, regal being I had ever seen. I had long heard of Narnia, but it was not until that day that I decided I had to visit here."

"I do not understand," Tirian said, even though he thought he did. 

"I wanted to see you one more time. On the field of battle, if that is what it took. I would have preferred to die at your hand than to live my life never having been noticed by you at all."

"Is that why you came here today?"

"I came because the men I served do not believe in anything. They don't believe in Tash, nor even your Aslan, nor even in the glory of Calormen. They believe only the gold they see entering their purses. They were never going to get me a battle, or win me any honor. Meanwhile, you… the whispers of you continuing to live, in hiding… How could I stay with them when they offered me nothing I believed in? Meanwhile, I never stopped believing in you."

"You don't even know me."

"I would like to rectify that. In any way that you will allow me."

Tirian was no idiot. Many had tried to seduce him, but few had ever managed it, and none had ever done it so appealingly. None had already won his esteem the way this near-stranger had, in only a day. 

It occurred to him that he ought not to give in, that there may still be a chance that Emeth had been sent as a spy, one who wooed in order to betray.

His heart had never been so sure that such suspicions were nonsense.

He raised Emeth to his feet and drew him in close. 

"Then let us get to know one another."

Emeth looked equal parts happy and surprised. "You trust me? Most would not."

Tirian shrugged. "And most would not survive Jewel's horn if you betray me. I will take my chances. And I have a good feeling about you. It has been a long time since I've had anything to feel good about."

"Let me help you feel better," Emeth whispered against Tirian's lips.

And Tirian did.


End file.
